Of Monsters and Men
by Wrong-decision
Summary: They sit like that for a while, John starts to cry into Alexander's jacket after a short time. Neither of them speaks. Neither of them moves. Eventually John's sobbing becomes more quiet until he's only hiccupping every now and then. (A sequel to Stargazing and Realtalking, but it's not necessary to read before this)


I tried a bit of a different writing style, since I usually don't write in present form.  
Have fun reading this. I love angst.

* * *

When Alex enters John's dorm room, it's quiet.  
He's holding onto his phone, John's message, sent a few minutes ago, still on screen showing the words "Come over, I need help". It's typed with so many mistakes, that it took Alex a lot longer than necessary to figure out the text.  
Alex' heart is beating fast, he's run all the way across campus to get to him as soon as possible.  
Now he's scared to call out for him, his mind creating one horrible scenario after another. So, when he steps around the corner towards where John's bed stands, he's almost relieved when John is sitting there.  
Almost.  
John's legs are pulled close to his chest, face pressed against them and arms around his knees.  
His hair is open and messy and he looks like he just came back from the bathroom, not enough time to tame the strands into obedience.  
John is shaking and his shoulders are pulled up as if to shield himself against some invisible threat, possibly from his phone, which is glowing brightly while laying on his bed in front of him.  
Alex feels his heart get heavy from seeing him like this.  
He immediately steps towards him, quietly saying John's name, to not startle him when he approaches.  
When John lifts his head his eyes are red and swollen and the tears that are still running down his face, leave wet, shining streaks.  
"Oh shit!", Alex breathes and hurries over, pulling off his shoes in a swift movement and carefully sits down next to him.  
He doesn't really know what to do, a little bit awkard, but he decides to go with his instinct and pulls John against him.  
John needs the contact and steadiness of another person, as he realizes when the young man hugs him back without hesitation and buries his face in the crook of Alex' neck instead of his own knees.  
They sit like that for a while, John starts to cry into Alexander's jacket after a short time.  
Neither of them speaks.  
Neither of them moves.  
Eventually John's sobbing becomes more quiet until he's only hiccupping every now and then.  
It's somewhat endearing but the situation keeps Alex from telling him this.  
When he feels John relax against him, he refrains from asking what happened.  
It's more important that he calms down and feels better at that moment.  
His face is now resting against his shoulder, his arms still around Alex' upper body.  
John's breathing is slow and warm against his neck and his eyes get heavier and heavier until he can't keep them open.  
Both of them drift off into light sleep.

When John wakes up again, Alex already has. He's drawing patterns on his back, gently and careful not to wake him.  
Not that it is of much use now.  
He sinks back into him, enjoying the touch and company.  
Alex almost makes him forget his worries.  
He feels safe around him and as if nothing can hurt him when they're together, a feeling John had missed out on for his entire life.  
His mother had made him feel safe, too. But never as much as Alex does, especially since his father always was around her.  
The thought of his father brings back the reason of his sorrows.  
He tears up again but fights against spilling them, done with crying for now.  
"He knows about us."  
Alex tenses but relaxes again quickly after.  
"How?"  
"Some asshole took a picture of us kissing and sent it to a newspaper, probably hoping for a reward seeing as I'm the son of a senator. Father wrote me two hours ago."  
Alexander curses through clenched teeth.  
"What'd he write?"  
John takes a shaky breath.  
"The usual. He-"  
His voice breaks and he has to take a moment to start again.  
"He said what a huge disappointment I am and how selfish it is for me to ruin his good name just so I can 'fool around with some kid from the gutter'. Basically said I just wanted attention and how I dared to choose to be gay, all that stuff. 'Should've sent you to conversion the first time it happened!' He doesn't want to see me again until I've stopped 'the nonsense' in his words."  
Alex takes a sharp breath.  
"John, I am... I'm so sorry."  
He shakes his head.  
"I'd say it's okay, but it's not. I can't look this over, Alex. This is why I wrote you. I'm not okay and I don't know what to do."  
Alex' grip on him tightens.  
It feels reassuring and gives him back some self control.  
"I never wanted him to hate me."  
"He is an idiot if he does."  
"He's still my dad. I... I should've been better at school or gotten a different job. Maybe that would've balanced it out."  
Alex looks straight ahead, returning to drawing patterns on John's skin, hand on his back under his shirt.  
"No."  
"No?"  
"No, you are your own person and you shouldn't have to make anyone like you. Not your neighbor, not the president and definitely not your father. He's a disgusting piece of shit for talking to you like that. You are amazing, John Laurens, and I would give anything to be your friend if I wasn't already. Being you is already enough. It's not your fault that your father is like this. You did nothing wrong and you sure as fuck didn't choose to be into guys."  
John doesn't know how to reply to that.  
So he just stays quiet until he can form the words he needs.  
"Thanks."  
He takes a deep breath, thinking about the many times Alex has been there for him, cheering him up, helping him out and talking badly about his father whenever he writes him one of those letters or e-mails.  
He smiles a bit, tears welling up in his eyes again. He lets them fall.  
They're not the horribly hopeless, hurt and self-loathing tears from before, but actual happy ones.  
Alex makes him feel good about himself again, even if the doubt and hurt and disgust still sticks in the back of his mind.  
"You know what, Hamilton? Even if I could choose who to love, I'd do the exact same."  
Alex laughs and his chest rumbles, a good feeling against John's side.  
"Me too."

* * *

I hope you liked this small oneshot!  
I'm actually quite happy how it turned out!  
If you want to read more: leave a comment or send me a message, I'm willing to take requests!


End file.
